The Chaperon Bride

Home > Other > The Chaperon Bride > Page 17
The Chaperon Bride Page 17

by Nicola Cornick


  ‘One day you may meet a man who pleases you,’ Sibella said hopefully, her face clearing. ‘Perhaps we shall even find you a husband in Harrogate this summer! There are plenty of the fashionable crowd up from London.’

  I have met a man who pleases me, Annis thought involuntarily, the image of Adam Ashwick rising unbidden in her mind, but I have no intention of risking everything because of it!

  She did not express her thoughts and gave her cousin a smile instead, knowing that Sibella was happy now as she contemplated a conventional match for her. Her cousin had tried to marry her off plenty of times before. Unfortunately her judgement was not always sound. The last potential husband, an army colonel on furlough, had later been cashiered for stealing supplies and selling them on.

  ‘I fear you would find it a tall order catching a husband for me,’ she said, stretching out in the bath. ‘Not only do I have no fortune, but I am not even passably good looking. Though I can scarce complain, I suppose, having made myself look an old frump for the past five years! No, Sibella, I am well and truly at my last prayers now and I am content for it to be so.’

  Her damp hair was clinging to her cheeks now with a mixture of condensation and perspiration, but it did not feel too unpleasant. The warmth of the water had seeped into her bones, making her body feel soft and pliant.

  Sibella snorted. ‘That was not what I had heard. I heard a certain rumour that Lord Ashwick was most attentive to you, Annis. Indeed, it must be so, for did he not dance with you at the ball at the Dragon? I hear he never dances.’

  ‘If it comes to that,’ Annis said, ‘neither do I.’

  ‘Well, then!’ Sibella’s blue eyes sparkled. ‘Do you like him?’

  Annis considered the option of escaping Sibella’s questions by submerging herself under the spa waters and rejected it ruefully. She would surely die of the smell.

  ‘Yes…I suppose I do.’

  ‘I knew it!’ Sibella clapped her hands and set up a tidal wave. ‘You must like him very much to admit to even a small partiality. So…’ She paused invitingly.

  Annis grimaced. ‘Do not ask me, Sib. You know that it only makes you unhappy when I do not agree with you that marriage is the universal panacea.’

  For once, Sibella did not argue. ‘You mean…because of John? But, Annis, not all men are so domineering—’

  ‘I know!’ Annis said hastily. ‘I am sure David is a paragon of male perfection. It is simply that I cannot risk such a thing again, Sib. Oh…’ she threw her cousin an appealing look ‘…if you knew how repressive it was, not to be allowed out of the house except when John decreed, to be told how to dress, what to read, who to see! Having gained my freedom, how may I ever trust myself to a man again? I think I would run mad if I married again only to find myself so constrained!’ She put her hands up to her face briefly. ‘I swear, Sib, that I thought my head would burst with the misery and frustration of it all. I actually prayed for John to die and free me, and how dreadful and desperate is that?’

  Sibella’s face was sad. ‘I do understand, Annis. I know you were ill with the wretchedness of it all. Yet that does not mean that all men are the same. I am persuaded that when you fall in love you will trust the man enough to take that risk. One day you will surprise yourself.’

  ‘And surprise you, I’ll warrant!’

  ‘No.’ Sibella shook her head. ‘I shall not be surprised in the least.’

  Annis lay back and closed her eyes again. She had been tempted to take a risk with Adam Ashwick, more tempted than she had ever been in her life before, but when pressed she had chosen the familiar ground and opted for safety. She would never know what might have happened had she taken a different course.

  There was a splash as Sibella sat up, sloshing much of the precious sulphur water on to the floor. Annis hoped that Mr Thackwray’s decorative plaster ceilings were not suffering. Sibella secured the towel about her.

  ‘I am going to rest for a little now before we go to take a beaker of water at the well. You should rest as well, you know, Annis. The water will have extracted the impurities from your body and you should give it chance to recover.’

  ‘Excellent. My nose in particular needs to recuperate.’

  Sibella frowned. ‘I do not believe that you take this seriously, Annis.’

  ‘I am sorry.’ Annis tried to look suitably repentant.

  ‘There is a chamber through there where you may lie down for a few minutes—’ Sibella pointed to one of the doorways that led off the main room ‘—and I shall be in there.’ She pointed to the opposite door. ‘The attendant has taken your clothing through and left you some blankets to wrap yourself. Try to rest, Annis! You are always so active; I am sure that it must be exhausting for you!’

  Annis smiled wryly as she eased herself out of the cooling bath ten minutes later. Sibella did a fine line in indolence, but she had never had that habit. Despite the relaxation of the bath, she felt alert and awake, disinclined to take the rest that Sibella had recommended. She decided to dress immediately and take a pot of tea downstairs in Mr Thackwray’s excellent drawing room, whilst she waited for her cousin to come down.

  She wrapped herself in a large towel, which was scratchy and none too clean. Annis looked at it doubtfully, wondering if Mr Thackwray had them washed between clients. Really, one way and another, this spa bathing seemed positively dangerous to the health.

  She opened the door to the bedchamber and looked around for her clothes. The bed was hidden discreetly behind a screen, but Annis spotted her underclothing and her gown hanging on a hook by the fireplace. She knew that the attendant would return to help her dress, but she had no inclination to lie around in a damp blanket; besides, she was not a fine lady who could not dress without the help of her maid. She dried herself briskly, dressed equally so, and checked her appearance in the spotted mirror. Not bad. She just needed to pin up her hair, secure her bonnet over her blonde tresses and then she would be ready to face the world again.

  A sound rather like a sigh stopped her in her tracks. Annis froze. When she had first walked over to the mirror she had been intent on her own reflection and had therefore not noticed the rest of the room. Now she realised that the angle of the mirror gave a good view of the foot of the bed, and the foot of something—or someone—else. A bare foot. She walked to the bottom of the bed. And stopped dead.

  Adam Ashwick was lying there. He was deeply asleep. He was also naked. Or at least, Annis assumed that he was, for one of Mr Thackwray’s scratchy blankets was slung low across his hips and thighs, leaving the rest of him gloriously visible in all his hard, muscular perfection. Annis’s gaze travelled from his feet up the full length of him, pausing briefly on the tumbled blanket, dwelling considerably longer on the broad, naked chest and moving up the strong brown column of his throat to his face. The dishevelled dark hair fell across his brow and sleep had softened the hard lines of cheek and jaw. His eyelashes were so long and thick that they gave him an oddly vulnerable look, like a child asleep. Annis swallowed hard. Her chest felt tight, as though she had a chill. But it was not cold that was causing her to shiver, nor was it the effects of Mr Thackwray’s spa bathing.

  ‘Lord Ashwick!’

  Adam opened his eyes and stared at her in bemusement. Then he blinked and started to sit up. His blanket slipped lower. Annis tried not to look and found herself staring at his thighs before she hastily averted her gaze. The hot colour rushed into her face.

  ‘Annis?’ Adam’s voice sounded blurred with sleep. His eyes half-opened and his gaze drifted over her thoughtfully, and seemed to linger on the strands of blonde hair about her face. Annis saw a light come into his eyes and thought he was going to smile, but his expression changed, became concentrated. He took her wrist in a negligent grip and pulled her closer to him. Annis’s other hand came to rest on his chest and lingered there on the hard warmth of his skin.

  ‘Well, well, sweetheart! What a pleasant surprise this is!’

  Adam let go of her wrist
and put out a hand and brushed the wisps of fair hair back from Annis’s face. His fingers were gentle against her cheek, his expression intent. Annis stared down at him, light-headed and confused. Adam took her chin in his hand and, very gently, drew her face down to his. Not that Annis was resisting. She felt so shaky that she almost tumbled on top of him.

  When their lips met, the kiss was light but achingly sweet, drawing Annis deeper into the sensual web that clouded her mind. Her body, already soft and pliant from the spa bathing, grew warm and responsive. She felt Adam’s hand at the neck of her gown, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin in the hollow of throat and undoing the tiny buttons one by one. Her lips parted on a gasp of mingled shock and pleasure, but Adam merely angled his head to take advantage and deepen the kiss, touching his tongue to hers. Annis’s senses spun. She wanted to sink down onto the softness of the bed, taking him with her all the way. She wanted…Adam’s hand slipped inside her bodice to stroke her breast with gentle fingers and the shock finally sent her tumbling beside him on to the bed.

  It also appeared to wake Adam from what had evidently been a delightful dream. His black brows snapped together and he frowned at her in a wholly intimidating manner. Annis scrambled to her feet. She looked around, saw another connecting door open and leading to another bathroom, and felt her heart sink. No doubt it was easily done when the hotel was full, but she did so wish that Mr Thackwray had thought to lock some of the connecting doors.

  Adam secured the blanket more firmly about his waist, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

  Annis quailed. She had not thought him to be so tall or so intimidating. Nor did she recall him being quite so overpoweringly masculine, but then they had only met previously when he had all his clothes on, which was quite different from being confronted by an angry man who was almost naked. A man who had been kissing her with such passion…She tried to gather her scattered thoughts.

  ‘I do beg your pardon, my lord. I believe one of us must be in the wrong room…’

  It sounded ridiculous, as though she was apologising for stepping on his foot during a dance. Unsurprisingly, Adam ignored her feeble apology. He took a step towards her, his grey eyes narrowing ominously.

  ‘Lady Wycherley, what the devil do you think that you are about?’

  Annis glared at him. ‘What am I about? One might ask what you are about, my lord! You were the one who kissed me, and—’ She broke off, blushing.

  ‘And?’ Adam raised a brow. Despite his lack of clothes he looked infuriatingly confident, even rather pleased with himself. ‘Does this “and” have something to do with your gown? It is still unbuttoned.’

  Annis looked down. It was true that the row of tiny mother-of-pearl buttons was still unfastened and the bodice was gaping in a way that gave Adam a clear view of the curve of her breast. And Adam was evidently enjoying that view. His appreciative gaze did not falter.

  Annis opened her mouth to give him a scathing set-down, her shaking fingers clutching for the buttons at the same time. Before she could say a word, the bathing attendant appeared, carrying a huge pile of towels. The girl screamed loudly at the sight of them, dropped the pile and scrabbled desperately on the floor whilst seemingly unable to tear her gaze away.

  ‘Oh, ma’am, oh, sir…I do beg your pardon.’

  ‘There has been a misunderstanding,’ Annis began a little desperately. ‘I think—’

  ‘What the deuce is going on?’ Mr Thackwray, florid and panting, barged through from the bathroom. He viewed the embarrassed maid and his gaze turned to Annis and Adam. His brows shot up into his hair as he saw Annis still scrambling for those last, telltale buttons.

  ‘My lord!’ he began uncertainly, caution warring with a certain man-of-the-world bonhomie in his face as he took in the situation.

  ‘A mix-up over rooms, Thackwray, that is all,’ Adam said laconically. ‘If you would be so good as to escort Lady Wycherley out and close the door—’

  But it was too late. Sibella, swathed in a vast bath sheet, erupted out of the next bedchamber at the same time that other guests, drawn by the maid’s shrill scream, pressed curiously through the bathroom and milled in the doorway.

  ‘Oh, good God,’ Annis said faintly.

  She felt rather than saw Adam’s gaze rest on her face in quick appraisal. He touched her arm. ‘I will square everything with Thackwray and his guests,’ he said, in an undertone. ‘Go back with your cousin and I will come to see you as soon as I am able.’

  Annis turned her puzzled hazel gaze on him. ‘My lord? I am not sure that I perfectly comprehend—’

  ‘I am sure you do, Lady Wycherley,’ Adam said, with grim amusement. ‘As a chaperon you must have a perfect grasp of social conventions, so you will understand when I say that you have managed to compromise me most thoroughly!’

  Adam watched as Sibella shepherded her cousin away protectively. There was a slightly stunned look on Annis’s face, as though recent events had moved a little too quickly for her. Adam smiled to himself. He had been awake for a considerable time before Annis had discovered him and had thoroughly enjoyed watching her reflection in the mirror as she dressed. It had been utterly ungentlemanly of him not to alert her to his presence, and the sight of her voluptuous nakedness had done nothing to calm the urgent desire that possessed him whenever he met her. When she had come over to the bed, the impulse to pretend that he was asleep had been too strong to resist, and what had occurred afterwards had been even sweeter. It had strengthened his resolve to claim her for his own.

  And now she had played directly into his hands. Adam allowed a small smile to curl his mouth. Annis Wycherley was thoroughly compromised and would have to accept his suit. Adam knew that he was in a fair way to being deeply in love with his delectable Lady Wycherley. He admired her gallantry of spirit as much as he wanted her. She was bright and courageous and kind. He did not intend to let her go.

  Adam smiled as he reached for his clothes. It was time to press his advantage.

  By the time that they had reached the neat town house in Knaresborough Square, Sibella was almost recovered from the shock, but still inclined to lament what had happened.

  ‘How excessively unfortunate! It was all Mr Thackwray’s fault as well, for all that he tried to shift the blame wherever he could. How they could have made such a mix up with the bedrooms defies understanding. Really, it is too vexing!’ Sibella wrung her hands and fixed her cousin with a gloomy gaze. ‘Everyone will talk, you know, Annis. There are some vicious gossip-mongers who frequent the spa for that precise purpose!’

  Annis unpinned her bonnet and handed it to the maid with a word of thanks. She took Sibella’s cloak and gloves, passed them over too and ushered her cousin into the parlour. During the drive home she had had ample time to think about what had happened between herself and Adam Ashwick, and to decide that to play the situation down was the only course of action. It had mainly been her own fault, for staring at Adam like a startled débutante, then compounding her folly by kissing him. Annis fiercely dismissed this as an aberration, and one she was determined to forget.

  ‘Come, I am sure it will not be so bad!’ she said now. ‘I am sure that Lord Ashwick will be able to sort matters out with Mr Thackwray and his guests. Everyone knows that it was simply a confusion over rooms. Soon it will all be forgotten.’

  Sibella settled into an armchair with a heavy sigh. ‘I wish I had your faith! Thackwray does not possess an ounce of discretion, and who can speak for his assortment of guests? The story will be all over Harrogate by tonight, you mark my words! What are we going to do?’

  ‘Order some tea for a start,’ Annis said, moving to the fireplace and pulling the bell for the maid. ‘Tea is always reviving to the spirits.’

  ‘I will concede that, of course, but I meant what are we to do about the scandal?’

  Annis waited while the maid came in with the tea tray, then poured cups for them both before resting her chin on her hand. ‘Nothing, dearest Sib.
Lord Ashwick and I are agreed that it was merely an unfortunate mistake. It need not concern anyone else.’

  ‘If you believe that then you are naïve,’ Sibella snapped, with more acidity than was her custom. ‘The scandalmongers will have it that you are having a liaison with Lord Ashwick. How does that idea suit you?’

  Annis raised her cup and took a sip of the tea. It was hot, strong and just what she needed. ‘I have thought about it and I confess that I do not wish for an affaire with Lord Ashwick.’

  Sibella gave her a sharp look. ‘I do not believe that you take this seriously enough, Annis! Think of the gossip—a tryst in the bath chamber, with Lord Ashwick in a state of undress—why, it is a gift for the gossips and if you try to explain it away you will cause even more scandal!’

  Annis sighed. ‘I must admit that the whole thing does smell a little dubious—rather like the bathing room!’

  Sibella frowned. ‘Annis, pray be serious! Your lamentable sense of humour!’

  ‘I am sorry.’ Annis sobered at the sight of her cousin’s genuine concern. ‘I know you think that I possess a levity most unsuitable in an orphan.’

  ‘Yes, well…’ Sibella’s pretty face was creased with distress. ‘Do you not understand, Annis? You are ruined!’

  Annis put her cup down with a little click of annoyance. ‘Sibella, I believe that you are making far too much of this. It was mortifying, but scarcely damaging.’

  ‘Truly? You consider it only embarrassing? And you standing there with your gown undone?’ Sibella jumped to her feet and paced across to the window. ‘I believe…I do believe…that Lord Ashwick must marry you, Annis.’

  Annis, who had been about to pour herself another cup of tea, put the pot down with a sigh of exasperation.

 

‹ Prev